


angels above, angels below

by realbutnotsopure



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fallen Angel, Fallen Angel!Grantaire, Grantaire loves his friends, M/M, They love him, and guess what, enjoltaire - Freeform, not specified era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 01:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realbutnotsopure/pseuds/realbutnotsopure
Summary: "It was the mortal life, and it was deafening."Grantaire is a fallen angel, this is how he finds peace.





	angels above, angels below

Paris was loud. It wasn’t the first word that had come to mind when Grantaire first saw it, nor was it the most fitting, but it captured the spirit of the city in a way that other words couldn't. At least, mortal words. It had shocked him at first, the contrasting colours, the ever changing dynamics of individuals, the living chaos. The cold, the night, the people. The latter were the loudest, they spent their life screaming. All their actions, the following consequences, the failures and successes, all echoing through history and never in the same pace. It was the mortal life, and it was deafening.

Grantaire would stand in the middle of a street, watching everyone rush past, getting from point A to point B, never stopping, never simply stand and live. Everyone had somewhere to go and no one had the time to meet the eyes of an angel.

A fallen angel, despite it all. When that fact became too much, and his ears were ringing because of the city, when the anguish of what he lost drowned him, he drank. When the languages of humans failed him, when his emotions rushed up his throat and got stuck there, when he needed some relief, he painted. That was all he did, that first year.

Then, on a night in June, he met Éponine and the city stopped screaming. She had been walking slowly and that had been what caught his eye. She wasn’t in a rush, in fact, she seemed to be trying to delay reaching her destination as much as she could. She had startled when she caught him watching her, and then she had raised her eyebrow. A dare. So Grantaire found himself in a human, and he found a friend.

It was the fact that they were three that intrigued him, because Grantaire knew that the best of things always came in three. So he had been sought them out, Joly, with his puns and worries, Bossuet, with his incredible bad luck, and Musichetta, who embodied motherhood in way Grantaire hadn’t realized that he missed. But he was careful to get too close, good things came in three, not four, but Musichetta had called him out on it, Joly had hugged his arm, and when Bossuet told them of his latest accident, Grantaire laughed for the first time in years.

Jehan wasn’t heading anywhere when they first met, and it almost brought tears to Grantaire’s eyes. Jehan was an unique soul, who found beauty in things no one cared or had the time to look at, and Jehan was the first person Grantaire showed his art to.

Combeferre was calm and Courfeyrac was happy. It wasn’t as easy as that, Grantaire knew though, humans were always more complex than you thought they would be, but their presence brought Grantaire some peacefulness he had forgotten he could feel. Good things came in three, and even though he knew he wasn’t the missing part, he loved them for letting him be the third for just a little while. Later, when Grantaire saw Combeferre get mad and Courfeyrac crying, he simply loved them more.

Bahorel had been an accident, Grantaire’s learning feet tripping on unfamiliar streets, and warm arms catching him. Bahorel had laughed, laughter coming deep from his belly and his help resembling a hug. He didn’t look the part of a helper, his name didn’t fit it, but Grantaire learned from him more than anyone that frightening things can be good too.

Feuilly was kind, the protector of the children and the struggling. It was the first familiar thing Grantaire had seen on Earth, the kindness and protection he’d only seen in heaven. To find it in an ordinary person, in a mortal human, had more than anything else given him hope.

Marius and Cosette hadn't even seen him when they passed, they introduced themselves later, apologizing profoundly when Courfeyrac told them they had simply passed Grantaire. He hadn't minded though, and even though he later would agree with Éponine that it was ridiculous for two people to be so occupied with each other, Grantaire hadn't seen that kind of affection in humans before and so the two of them also got a piece of his heart.

Enjolras was loud. Their first meeting hadn’t gone well, and neither had the second, or the third. Enjolras reminded Grantaire too much of what he had lost, his soul felt like the sense of heaven. He reminded Grantaire of Paris, his loud presence and never sleeping passion. But there was something in Enjolras too, that Grantaire hadn’t encountered before. It wasn’t his beauty, the beauty of angels, nor was it his words, for Grantaire knew better and prettier words in other tongues. It was the fact that Enjolras was so unapologetically alive, so mortal in a way that the others wasn’t. That Grantaire wasn’t. Which made him come back. Again and again. Until the point that they could speak without fighting, Enjolras asked for his opinion and once, when Grantaire walked through the door, Enjolras smiled at the sight of him. And just like that, Grantaire fell in love.

Love existed in Heaven too, love existed in Hell. But immortal love and mortal love are two very different things. Never before had Grantaire understood why the wars were fought, why they all went mad. Why the people had learned to love the chaos they lived, how they could live in, even fall in love with the loud cities. Because of the people they loved. Paris was still deafening but somehow, somewhere along the way, Grantaire’s friends had quited it, had brought him along, had made him a place in the chaos. Grantaire learned to live with it, some days it felt louder, some days it could barely be heard at all. And years later, when Enjolras kissed him, Paris at last was quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> I love fallen angels au's and I hope I made this one some justice. Also I've loved these characters for years and I still had to triplecheck the spelling of almost all of them.
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment if you have the time<3


End file.
